Heart of a Wolf
by xSonallyGirl129x
Summary: As time dragged on, the chilly autumn giving way to a frigid winter that later melted into a warm spring, they grew closer together. For the first times in their lives, they truly felt as if they could spend the rest of their lives with someone—with each other. Yamcha was the only one she wanted to spend eternity with, and Bulma wouldn't trade it for the world. (AU; YamBul)


**Alright, yeah, I know I've been making a lot of YamBul oneshots…But y'know what? I just gotta vent a little with this one; you'll understand in a bit (see the end notes for details)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball, it belongs to Akira Toriyama! I just wrote this story! Enjoy!~**

* * *

The rain was coming down harder than ever, the thunder booming overhead and the flashes of lightning almost in perfect sync. As raindrops continued to strike her roof and the glass of her windows, Bulma was content at her seat next to the fireplace, which she had alit earlier before sitting down with a mug of hot cider and a book that she had been reading for the past few days. The bluenette's house was just on the outskirts of the small town, bordering the wooded forest. If she had her window open, Bulma would've easily been able to hear the noises of the animals scattering around outside, rushing to find shelter from the raging storm.

A sudden noise jerked her focus away from her book, making her jump and nearly drop it on the floor. She couldn't quite identify what the noise had been, as she had been too wrapped up in the story for her mind to fully register it. She waited for several long seconds to see if it would come again, but aside from the storm outside, she was met with silence. Shrugging lightly, Bulma returned her attention to the book in her hands.

No sooner had she done that than the noise came again, this time louder than before, and Bulma's mind was finally able to register what it was this time.

It was a pained cry—more specifically, a _howl._

Frowning, Bulma closed the book, now long forgotten as she stood up from her chair and headed over to the nearest window; the sound was somewhat muffled, alerting her to the fact that it had come from outside. She peeked through the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of something—anything—but it was too dark to see anything, the lightning overhead only giving a split second of light at best, and even then she still didn't see anything except trees and falling rain.

The howling noise came again. Unable to ignore her instincts, Bulma rushed to her bedroom and opened up her wardrobe; she had already changed into her nightgown an hour before, but it wasn't too late to change back out, she supposed. She couldn't explain it, but something within her was telling her to find the source of the howling.

She removed her nightgown, tossing it onto her bed and pulling out a simple shirt with long sleeves, long pants, a pair of rain boots and gloves, and once she had those on, she dashed towards the door, grabbing her raincoat on the coat rack next to it before heading out into the storm.

Bulma pulled the hood over her head, shielding herself from the rain as she started walking towards the forest. It was a rather chilly autumn night, and the pouring rain and forceful winds weren't helping much. The howling reached her ears again as she stepped into the forest, this time louder than before, making Bulma look around frantically. "Who's there?" she called out, having to yell to carry her voice over the deafening bangs of thunder. "Where are you?"

A few long seconds of silence answered her, then it suddenly came again. Bulma was able to pinpoint which direction it came from, and didn't hesitate to start rushing that way. "Come on, let me know where you are!" she yelled, still running as quickly as she could. The howl came once again, and that was the last one that Bulma needed, because within a minute or so, she came across a clearing…and the sight before her made her gasp.

There, lying beneath a large tree, covered in blood and mud and shaking in obvious pain, was a black-furred wolf. Bulma felt nonplussed, not sure what to do as she stared at the animal. Then, as the thunder crashed again, the wolf released a loud, agony-laced howl, the exact same howl that Bulma had heard, and it finally snapped the bluenette out of her stupor.

What was she supposed to do? Her parents had warned her against going near the wildlife ever since she was a little girl, especially wolves, but even so, that same feeling from before forbid her from running away. Not sure what else to do, Bulma slowly walked towards the wolf. The sound of her footsteps must have alerted it to the fact that she was there, because the wolf raised its head to look at her. It was unable to open its right eyes, which was smeared with dark blood, the one eye that was open was a dark shade of onyx, feeling as if it were staring into Bulma's soul.

"Hey there," Bulma said softly, crouching down so that she was more at level with the wolf. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." Strangely enough, much to Bulma's surprise and relief, it seemed that the wolf understood her, as it didn't growl at her or attempt to run off. It seemed oddly calm, actually.

Grateful that she had on long sleeves and gloves, Bulma got to work. The bluenette removed her coat, doing her best to ignore the rain that quickly soaked her as she slowly placed it over the wolf's injured body, careful not to move too quickly or make any sudden movements. She didn't want to risk scaring the poor thing and get bitten or scratched.

Once she had used her coat to cover most of the wolf's body, Bulma worked to gently place her arms under the wolf. One arm worked to support its chest, while the other looped beneath its stomach, just in front of its hind legs, and she pulled it closer to her before standing up with grunt of effort at the wolf's weight. The wolf whined slightly in pain from being moved, but didn't do anything else, which Bulma was grateful for.

Deciding that it was best not to run and risk scaring the wolf or worsening its wounds, Bulma walked back towards her house. She had been in the forest several times before, the desire to explore it leading her here time and time again, she knew this area like the back of her hand. It took a while—probably a good fifteen to twenty minutes of walking in the rain—but Bulma finally made it back to her house. She worked to open the door, closing it behind her once she was inside and heading to her bathroom.

She gently lowered the wolf to the ground, placing him onto the soft carpeting before slowly removing the coat and taking a moment to examine him. His body was covering in scratches, looking as if he had been in some kind of fight, his dark fur splashed with crimson blood and parts of his body were soaked with mud. His face was the worst, though; there was a deep, nasty cut over his left eye, and a similar X-shaped cut on his right cheek.

Knowing what she had to so, Bulma stood up and walked over to the basin, removing her gloves and rolling up her sleeves to wash her hands. Once that was done and she dried her hands off, Bulma put the gloves back on and opened the small medicine cabinet, pulling out several gauze pads, paper tape and disinfectant. She was going to need a lot for this, she just knew it.

Bulma placed the items on the counter and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with warm water, placing a bit of soap into it, and ringing it out a bit, then crouched back down to the wolf. "Listen, I'm going to need to clean you up, okay?" she said quietly. "It won't be comfortable, but it's gonna be okay, I promise."

This wolf was unique, Bulma already knew. He knew exactly what she was saying, she just knew it; she wasn't sure how he knew, but she was sure of it. Using the cloth, Bulma worked to clean up the wolf up, gently washing the blood and mud off of his body, continuously rinsing it out and reusing it for several minutes, and making sure not to be too rough or directly touch the wounds with the cloth. The wolf let out the occasional pained whine, but didn't do anything other than that, which Bulma was extremely grateful for.

Over an hour of work, Bulma managed to clean the wolf up and then discarded the filthy cloth, using a fresh one to clean the wounds themselves with warm water. Once they was done, the second cloth stained red, Bulma used the majority of her gauze and disinfectant to cover the wolf's wounds, using the paper tape to secure them to his body, silently thankful that she didn't need to use stitches.

Finally done, Bulma sat back on the bathroom floor with a sigh. She looked down at the wolf. The wolf had fallen asleep at some point, his chest gently rising and falling with each breath he took; he was probably relieved to not only be out of the rain, but to be cleaned up and have his wounds taken care of.

Bulma couldn't help the small smile that worked its way onto her face; he just looked so peaceful. If anyone else saw her doing this, they would think she was insane, bringing a wild animal, especially a wolf, into her house, but she honestly didn't care right now.

**OoOoOoO**

The marketplace was bustling, even this early in the morning. Bulma was able to make her way to the butcher's stand, thankful that she had plenty of money to buy what she needed. The butcher looked at her strangely at her large request, but went to grab it for her anyways.

Bulma had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor at some point, she wasn't exactly sure when, but as the first light of dawn came up, something had nudged her awake, and Bulma opened her eyes to see the wolf standing over her and pressing his nose again her arm.

The bluenette had been startled at first, but calmed down as the memories of last night came flooding back to her. The wolf had been mellow the entire time as she led him to her living room, where he relaxed on the carpet. He tried to start licking the gauze over his wounds, but Bulma quickly stopped him. Once again, he understood her, stopping when she told him that it wouldn't help him.

Bulma had a feeling that he would be hungry. She headed into her bedroom to change into clean clothes, then headed into the kitchen to prepare a large bowl of warm milk and offer it to the wolf, who had calmly stayed on the carpet the whole time. She had grabbed some money and headed out the door as the wolf started lapping at the milk.

As she walked to the marketplace, intending on getting plenty of meat for him, Bulma couldn't help but reflect on everything that was going on. She had a wolf in her house—a wolf that she had treated the wounds of and was now going out to buy meat for. People would no doubt think she was crazy. Maybe she was, but she didn't care right now. She wasn't sure what was making her do this, all she knew was that something was tugging at her heart, telling her that this was right.

A few minutes later, the butcher returned with the large order of meat that she had asked for, and she immediately left after paying. She opened the door, suddenly grateful that she lived away from other people, and closed it behind her, and as she entered the living room, she was greeted with the sight of the wolf still lying on the carpet and now licking the bowl of milk clean.

Bulma headed into the kitchen, the wolf following her with a bit of a limp and watching as she worked to pull the meat out of the bags she was given. She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and placed some of the meat onto it, smiling at the wolf as she put the plate down and he didn't hesitate to start ravenously devouring it, as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Several minutes and a few more plates of meat later, the wolf seemed content, as he licked the newest plate clean before turning and slowly limped back to the living room, collapsing onto the carpet. He didn't look tired, just relaxed, and Bulma still couldn't help the smile that came to her face as she watched him.

**OoOoOoO**

Everything felt different now.

It took several days for the wolf's wounds to heal, gradually getting better every day, and as those days passed, Bulma slowly began to grow accustom to the wolf's presence.

Her job as a scientist gave her plenty of money, so she was able to keep him well-fed with meat and warm milk. She would let him out whenever he wanted, the scratching at her front door being the perfect cue, and whenever he was inside, he would follow her everywhere she went—waiting outside the bathroom when she took a shower, sleeping on her bedroom carpet whenever she went to bed, and even sitting and watching her when she went down to her lab to work.

She was slowly beginning to think of him as a _companion_ more than a wolf.

Bulma honestly hadn't thought about living with someone before. Sure, she had dreamed of getting married ever since she was a little girl, but up until now, she had been content with living on her own.

Which was probably why she felt anguish claw at her heart when he had to leave.

The wolf's wounds had finally healed up, including the two on his face, though they remained as permanent scars beneath the dark fur. The night she removed the bandages from his body for the final time, Bulma had ended up falling asleep in her chair, listening to the crackling noise of the fireplace. The wolf had placed his head on her lap, the bluenette gently petting and stroking him until both of them had fallen asleep.

As dawn came, Bulma was awoken by the sound of the wolf scratching at the door. She let him outside, and once he was out, he paused for a moment and looked back at her, his onyx-black eyes locking with her bright blue ones for a moment, then he suddenly took off into the forest. Bulma waited for him to come back, hoping that he would appear from the forest, but as dusk started to settle in, Bulma had to accept the fact that he was gone.

As she lied in her bed, staring up at her ceiling, Bulma tried to contemplate everything that had happened. It felt so weird; she had grown so used to the wolf sleeping next to her bed…it almost didn't feel right to be alone, even though she had been like this for years now. Why did she feel so…empty now that he was gone?

**OoOoOoO**

Sleep hadn't come easy for Bulma. After hours of tossing and turning, she finally managed to fall into a restless slumber, groggily opening her eyes only a few hours later as morning light pooled into her room.

Bulma yawned as she sat up in her bed, stretching lightly before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. A sudden smell hit her nose, making her blink slightly as her sleep-deprived mind tried to identify it. Whatever it was, it smelled _good_.

A clattering noise from the kitchen made Bulma freeze. Someone was in her house. Ever so lightly, Bulma got out of her bed and quietly moved out of her room and into the hallway, peeking around the corner at the kitchen. The bluenette was greeted with the sight of a tall man with long, choppy black hair in her kitchen, his back turned to her as he moved around and, by the looks of it, worked to cook something.

Bulma blinked almost dumbly at him. Who was he, and just what was he doing in her house? She took a step forward, hoping to sneak up on him and give him a good smack upside the head for daring to break into her house. Just who did he think he was?!

Unfortunately, the floorboard she stepped onto squeaked loudly, instantly giving away her position. Bulma froze up as the man paused in his actions and turned around to face her…and Bulma couldn't stop the gasp that came from her mouth as she got a good look at him.

His black hair reached past his shoulders and framed his face…his large, onyx-black eyes looked right at her…a scar ran over his left eye and an X-shaped one was present on his right cheek…

…Those scars…those eyes…she knew them anywhere…

No, it wasn't possible! There was just no way!

"W-Who are you?!" Bulma yelled, managing to shake away her shock and confusion enough.

The man blinked at her with a smile. "Bulma, it's okay," he said. "It's me."

The bluenette rapidly shook her head. "No you're not!" she shrieked. "You're not him! There's no way that a wolf can be a human!"

The man was still smiling as he put the bowl in his hands down on the counter and walked over to her. Bulma curled her hands into fists and raised them up; even though she didn't know a lot of self-defense and wasn't very strong physically, she wasn't about to let herself get hurt easily.

"It's alright," the man said as he drew closer. "I'm not gonna hurt you." Bulma blinked up at him, her eyes wide. "You said the same thing to me when you found me, right?" He stopped when he was only a couple of feet in front of her, holding out a hand, as if waiting for her to take it.

Bulma was too stunned to do anything but stare for a minute, then she narrowed her eyes and glared up at him. "If you're really him, then prove it!" she hissed, still refusing to believe him.

The man chuckled lightly as he lowered his hand. "As you wish," he said simply. He took a step back, and right before Bulma's eyes…he began to change. Black fur covered his tan skin, easily mixing in with his dark hair, his face changed to a muzzle, his human ears disappeared as they were replaced with a different pair atop his head, and a tail appeared as he shrunk slightly and was on all fours.

The wolf stared up at Bulma, her mouth agape and her eyes wide with shock. After a few seconds, the wolf transformed back, the man standing where he had been just a minute before, smiling at the bluenette, who was too shocked to say anything.

"My name is Yamcha, by the way," he said, officially snapping Bulma back to reality. Still unable to say anything, Bulma silently walked up to him, grasping one of his hands with both of hers to examine it. It looked no different than her own, aside from the size and skin tone. Then Bulma lifted her head to look up at him, her blue eyes locking with his dark ones as she raised a hand to brush a thumb over the X-shaped scar, unable to deny it any further.

"It…It really is you," she breathed out, the feelings of joy and awe threatening to drown each other out. "But…But how?"

**OoOoOoO**

Bulma had heard of creatures like Yamcha—people who had the ability to transform into wild, vicious animals, with wolves being the most popular subject. But as she got to know him, it turned out that transforming under the full moon and attacking people, was nothing more than the stuff of fairy tales. Bulma knew that the world was full of fascinating mysteries, but to her, Yamcha was no mystery at all.

Yamcha had told his story to her as they shared the breakfast he had made. He was descended from the legendary Honshu Wolf, which was said to have gone extinct over a hundred years ago, and was one of the last people on the planet to carry both wolf and human blood in his veins, able to transform back and forth whenever he pleased. He had traveled around the world, looking for a place to call home, but was never able to find one…

…Until the night he met her. Bulma had been the first person to show him kindness in his wolf form. He had been injured after fighting with a bear over some meat, and had been left for dead in the forest, howling in pain until Bulma had found him and nursed him back to health.

Bulma had never met someone like Yamcha. He was kindhearted, introverted and socially awkward, having profound knowledge of martial arts and even practicing the art himself. He wasn't afraid to show emotions, humility or vulnerability. In Bulma's eyes, he was more human than most people she had met.

The same went for Yamcha. He never met anyone like Bulma either. He was able to look past her temperamental attitude and all her money, able to fully see the generous, clever and gentle person she was underneath.

As time dragged on, the chilly autumn giving way to a frigid winter that later melted into a warm spring, they grew closer together. For the first times in their lives, they truly felt as if they could spend the rest of their lives with someone—with each other.

**OoOoOoO**

Bulma slowly opened her eyes. Morning sunlight was shining through the glass of her bedroom, illuminating the entire room. By now, Bulma was aware of something being wrapped around her waist and a warmth pressing against her backside, and she turned herself around enough to see the peaceful, slumbering form of Yamcha in his human form, just as naked under the sheets as she was and his arms snaked around her waist to pull her closer to him.

A smile crept its way onto the bluenette's face as the memories of last night's events came back to her, wrapping her arms around him and closing what little distance was between them, placing a quick peck on his lips. Yamcha stirred slightly but didn't wake up; Bulma didn't mind, she was content with spending the next couple of hours like this.

Yamcha was the only one she wanted to spend eternity with, and Bulma wouldn't trade it for the world.

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**I had a lot of fun writing this one ^ ^**

**I've had this idea floating around for a while now, and finally decided to write it down. It's based on both the Vocaloid song "Feathers Across the Seasons" and my favorite anime movie "Wolf Children" (except there's no death or tragedy in this). I really liked the idea and just couldn't help myself…Also, do NOT tell me that the image of Yamcha as a little wolf does not look freaking adorable!**

**Anyways, why did I decide to write this now? Well, the answer is simple, actually.**

**If you follow MasakoX on YouTube like I do, then you may have noticed that he just released Part 10 of ****_"What if Gine went to Earth with Goku?"_****, which I've really liked for the most part. But I was watching it…I couldn't believe what was playing back to me. In the middle of it, as he explained what the Z-Fighters had been up to as they waited for Goku/Kakarot to return…he said that Bulma had fallen out of love with Yamcha because of his "spending and money-driven ways"…**

**…****WHAT THE FRICK?!**

**I don't think I've ever heard of a more pathetic, out-of-character excuse to force Bulma onto Vegeta, right next to the obvious "playboy" lie! (And before you say "But that's not a lie!", we only heard this from Trunks, who got his info from Bulma, who is known for twisting the truth in her favor; Yamcha is not the type to cheat, nor is he the type to have money-driven ways) If this is in the anime, please correct me, because after leaving his bandit ways behind, not once is Yamcha shown to be like this ANYWHERE in the manga (I never watched the anime, aside from a few filler episodes here and there, I just don't have the patience for it). Long story short, I was too salty to finish the video and just closed it after that.**

***sighs deeply* Y'know, I'm not an angry person, pretty much the opposite, and I don't like confrontation; I really don't mean to be rude or disrespectful or anything. As absolutely pissed off as I was at this whole ordeal, I just didn't have the energy left to exert being mad. So you know what I did instead?**

**Wrote this fic! XD**

***cackles to myself* It's a dog-eat-dog world out here, ladies and gentlemen. Sometimes the sweetest types of revenge are best executed passive-aggressively after the storm without anyone looking or expecting it X'D**

**Anyways, thank you so much for reading this fic! God bless you and have a wonderful day/night/whenever you're reading this!**


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